


Sweet on Scout Harding

by Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka)



Series: Athena Adaar Saves the World with only Minor Shenanigans [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Badass Dwarf Women, Comfort No Hurt, F/F, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Her girlfriend disagrees, Jealousy, Lace doesn't think she's sexy, Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet, Sweet, background Maria Cadash/Varric Tethras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25695187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold
Summary: Lace Harding wishes people fell over themselves the way they do to please the gorgeous members of the Inquisition. As it is, she can't even get adrinkwithout Cabot ditching her to flirt with some elf.Vlita, a former Carta dwarf and one of  the loyal Valo-Kas Mercenaries attached to Inquisitor Adaar, can't see anyone else except her Lace. She sets out to prove it.
Relationships: Lace Harding/Original Female Character(s), Lace Harding/Original Female Dwarf, Lace Harding/Vlita
Series: Athena Adaar Saves the World with only Minor Shenanigans [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980899
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	Sweet on Scout Harding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tuffypelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuffypelly/gifts).



> This was a gift for my lovely friend [@Tuffypelly](https://tuffypelly.tumblr.com/) for her birthday! Thank you always being a support!

Growing up among humans and elves made Lace Harding used to skimming along beneath their notice. The tiny dwarven girl with the long copper braids often felt lost among the long limbs of the rest of the farmers when they took their wares to market. She _thought_ being easy to overlook was simply the plight of surface dwarves. Why would humans ever look down, after all? 

She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t a tiny bit displeased to find out that, actually, some dwarves garnered attention no matter where they went. Jealousy was beneath her, and her ability to slip through unnoticed served the Inquisition well. That was important. Really important. She was an _asset_. 

And humans tripping over themselves for Maria Cadash _shouldn’t_ bother her half as much as it did. 

The other archer studied her targets with a hint of disapproval, looking down at the bow in her hand. The wrinkle at the top of her nose didn’t mar her features at all, rather made the pronounced pout of her lips even more noticeable. “Something’s wrong with the strings on these. They’re hide, right?” 

“Think they got wet?” Harding asked, her own lackluster target staring accusingly. They weren’t carrying tension right, she _knew_ it, but she needed a second opinion before she went stalking up to the Quartermaster demanding replacements. 

“Maybe.” Maria murmured, her fingers tracing along the elegant curve of the bow instead. “Make looks decent though. The grip is _beautiful_. Strings are cheaper than getting a whole new shipment.” 

“Assuming they fire properly with working strings.” Harding pointed out. 

“Lucky we can test that.” Maria tossed her hair over her shoulder and let her eyes skip to the merchant’s stalls surrounding the courtyard. She discounted the one ran by the Orlesian woman immediately, but her eyes flashed when she saw Seggrit. “Be right back.” 

Maria swaggered toward the stall with an exaggerated roll of her hips that made one kitchen lad near drop the basket of eggs he was carrying. Harding couldn’t help but roll her eyes skyward. Maria didn’t have her coin purse on her, and even _she_ wasn’t that good to get something off Seggrit for free. Harding observed the other dwarf lean on the stall, tipping her head to the side. Harding couldn’t hear exactly what Maria was saying, but she did hear a low, smoky laugh. Saw Seggrit reach, begrudgingly, for his inventory. 

Well, Maker be damned. Maria spun on her heel, bowstrings in her fist, shooting a wink over her shoulder and sashaying back to Harding, who couldn’t help her own stunned bark of laughter. “What’d you do, put it on Varric’s tab, Cadash?” 

“Does Varric _have_ a tab down here?” Maria asked innocently, tossing the new strings to Harding and reaching for her discarded bow and the blade at her hip to cut the lackluster string on hers. “Cause if so, there’s a pair of boots I’ve been dying to get my hands on.” 

“Seriously.” Harding crossed her arms over her chest. “How do you do that?” 

Maria’s lips twitched, but she didn’t look up from her work. “Do what?” 

“Sweet talk Seggrit into giving us free bowstrings. Get the soldiers to eat out of your hand. Make Varric _actually_ be quiet for two seconds.” 

Maria laughed, her wicked grin all teasing promise. “Harding, please make sure that sentence ends up on my tomb. Maria Cadash, the one woman who could get Varric Tethras to shut up.” 

Maria knotted the new string tightly and struck it with her finger, nodding in approval at the resounding twang. She picked an arrow lazily from the quiver and strung it, loosing it in one smooth motion. The arrow flew straight and hit the center of the target with a pleasant thud. 

“New strings it is then.” Harding mumbled. “Guess I’ll go fight with Morris.” 

“Make sure you bat your eyelashes.” Maria teased, smirking. “And wiggle your hips. Just a little.” 

* * *

Three hours, sixteen negotiations, and _far_ too much talking later, Harding stumbled into the tavern, eyes bleary from staring at small print on contracts. Nobody paid her any mind as she picked her way through the tables, making her way to the slab Cabot stood behind. He, at least, looked up at his approaching customer. “The regular swill, Scout?” 

“The good swill today, actually.” Harding asked, sliding her fingers across the solid, gleaming wood. “Morale is low. Just spent all afternoon with _Morris_.” 

“Good swill it is. And on the house.” Cabot offered dryly. “Gonna need to go downstairs to grab a fresh pitcher. Be back quicker than a nug on the run.” 

How quick _was_ a nug on the run? Harding stared at the bar, morose, for so long she lost track of time. She thought of the sun gleaming on Maria’s crimson hair, her sultry laugh. The awe and reverence shown whenever Athena parted a crowd in her good armor. People opening doors for Josephine and Vivienne. 

They were her colleagues and Harding was lucky they were, but sometimes…

A piercing giggle tore her from her reverie. She looked up from the wooden slab and let her eyes fall, incredulous, on Cabot grinning up at the tall, willowy apothecary. The woman had a syrupy sweet smile on her lips, an armful of herbs in her arms, and Cabot’s undivided attention. 

And Harding _still_ didn’t have her drink. 

She let herself collapse, forehead clunking on the bar. As usual, Lace Harding may as well be invisible. Great as that may be in the field, today… today it _really_ was less than helpful. Harding may as well pitch a tent outside Skyhold’s walls. 

The small touch on her back made her tense for only a moment before familiarity clarified it into a beloved caress. A soft, musical voice whispered in her ear as deft, careful fingers dragged themselves up her spine. “Rough day, love?” 

Harding turned her head to the side, smiling in exhaustion. “You could say that.”

Vlita didn’t say anything else, she just tipped her head to the side in silent invitation for Harding to continue, but as always, Lace Harding was at a loss for words under that stunning blue gaze. At first, it had made her blush and stammer and run away like a fool. Now, when V looked at her like that, like Lace was the only person in the world… well. Could anyone blame her for getting a bit lost, no matter how good of a scout she was? 

The late afternoon sunshine illuminated Vlita, kissing her hair and turning it to embers. She glowed with all the light of all the candles that lit Skyhold at night. Everything else beside her faded to pale, dull imitations of beauty. 

“Lace?” V asked quietly, leaning closer. 

“Maker.” She whispered, rapturous. “You’re the most beautiful woman in Thedas.” 

V’s lips curled into a pleased, soft smile, the one that lit up her eyes from within. It was the smile V saved for their friends, their adopted family of misfits and troublemakers, and Lace herself. Happiness transformed her lover from lovely to ravishing, bringing a bright pang of sorrow in its wake that Lace couldn’t ignore. 

Of the gorgeous women roaming Skyhold like exotic birds, Vlita was the most stunning. Nobody overlooked her, they’d be blind to. How often had Lace looked away from her to catch jealous, covetous gazes aimed in their direction? Somehow she had captured the heart of the kindest, most loyal, and loveliest woman in the world and she couldn’t blame them for their envy.

“I’m the second-most beautiful woman in Thedas.” V slipped closer until their shoulders brushed, until Lace could smell the subtle scent of alchemy clinging to her armor. “I’m looking at the most beautiful one.” 

Lace let the bitter laugh gust out, tipping her head down to the look at the bar again and avoid V’s scrutiny. “I wish you were looking at someone in the top one hundred. As it is, the only way I’m getting a drink is if I go pour it myself.” 

She waved toward Cabot and his pretty elf over her shoulder, watched V’s concerned gaze flick away to take in the scene. She shook her head, amused. “You know he’s sweet on her.” 

“And Morris is sweet on Bonny, Dagna is sweet on Sera, _everyone_ is sweet on Maria, and-” 

“I’m sweet on you.” V teased, reaching down to twine her fingers with Lace’s, bringing them up to her ruby lips and kissing each one. “Very sweet. _Sickeningly_ sweet, if you ask the Valo-Kas.” 

Lace felt each touch of her satin lips twist deliciously in her stomach, smiling despite her private grief.

“I wish I were just… just a tad bit prettier. Just enough to smooth things along. Just so I didn’t look so outta place next to you.” Harding smiled, apologetic. 

V blinked once. Twice. Then her smile dropped into a worried frown, her surprisingly strong grip tugging Lace away from the bar. As soon as Lace was standing properly, V twisted her arm around her waist and nuzzled into Lace’s frazzled braids. “You _are_ beautiful. I’m not the only one that thinks so.” 

“I know better than to argue with you.” Lace joked, wrapping her arms around V in return.

For her part, V simply rolled her eyes and pointed them to the rafters above.

“I don’t have ale in our room, but I can guarantee you’ll be the center of attention.” V offered gently. “Let me spoil you, lamb.” 

How could Lace resist? She smiled, weariness seeping through the expression. “Lead the way.” 

* * *

Their room. _Their_ room. It still made V smile to think it. Prior to beginning their courtship, which was an old term but one that suited them perfectly, Lace slept in a tent with the rest of the army outside the walls. Space was at a premium, and her scout didn’t want to take up any of it when people who needed it more existed. 

Lace looked so exhausted that she couldn’t imagine her poor love stumbling into a canvas shelter, with snow covering the floor, and bundling herself under furs to keep the cold away. She had to do that enough in the field, criss-crossing Thedas for the Inquisition, and in Skyhold… well, in Skyhold V could give her a plain, sturdy bed with a comfortable mattress and real quilts. 

What Lace didn’t know, V’s silly and embarrassing secret, was that her scout’s letters were shoved between the mattress and frame beneath where V laid her head when Lace was gone. Every single missive, long or short, saved and reread over and over again like she could feel Lace’s love in the words. 

Someday, there wouldn’t be any more missions. Someday, there wouldn’t be a war, no demons, tainted templars, or crazed cultists. When that day came, there wouldn’t be any need for absences that stretched from weeks into months while Lace explored the furthest corners of Thedas for V’s best friend. 

Someday, she wouldn’t have to look at Lace and choke back the anguish that came with knowing she’d be gone, again, too soon. 

Lace looked up from tugging off her gloves with a small quirk of her lips. “Love?” She asked softly, taking in the distant expression on V’s face. 

“Here, let me help.” She jumped into action, reaching for the leathers and chainmail Lace always wore, even here in Skyhold. She was constantly ready, after all, to be back on the road. She needed to be. The bits and pieces fell away, leaving Lace in nothing but a thin chemise and soft, worn cotton breeches. With a huff, Lace sat on the edge of the bed to tug her boots off impatiently and V gently slipped her fingers through the tight, utilitarian braids that kept her hair from falling in her eyes. She found the pins easily and began to pull them free, letting flame colored locks fall free as she did. 

“Maker.” Lace’s eyes drifted closed and she leaned into V’s touch. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” The easiest thing V ever said, and every time it lit a spark of joy inside her. Who knew she’d have something so beautiful, so pure, that was just hers? It was more than she ever expected, and she would treasure every single moment. 

The last of the pins released Lace’s long hair into a fall of orange like dawn-touched sky. She always secretly thrilled at this, her private secret. Nobody else saw Scout Harding rumpled and unready for action. Nobody else knew how long her hair truly was, or that the freckles that covered her face continued down over her arms and chest. This belonged to V alone. 

V shucked her own jacket and leather bodice before slipping onto the bed beside Lace, climbing up towards the pillows and sprawling leisurely on the mattress. “Come here. Tell me who I need to stab for you tomorrow.” 

Lace fell back with a great sigh, her hair falling in riotous waves around her. Huffing gently, V pulled her lover close, tucking their bodies together and running her fingers through the fiery strands. She waited, patiently, until Lace mumbled. “I’m tired of being the ugly duckling of Skyhold.” 

V hooked her thigh over Lace’s, skimming her palm over the dip of her waist. “Who told you that? I’ve never heard such a line of bullshit, and I played cards with Varric yesterday.” 

That made Lace laugh, V felt the gentle rise and fall of her abdomen under her splayed fingers. V gently kissed a line down Lace’s jaw, murmuring against the freckled skin. “Do you know Otsar tried to steal you from me when he saw you?” 

Lace laughed even harder, her giggle piecing the air and making V smile, just like it always did. Harding rolled onto her side, tossing her arm over V’s waist. Those sharp, emerald eyes glowed with unrestrained affection. “I’m not his type.” 

“Yes you are.” V trailed her fingers down the soft cotton covering Lace’s arm. “Short? Curvy? Absolutely gorgeous? I told him I called dibs.” 

“Dibs?” Lace repeated, her lips curling up in her own pleased smile. 

“Dibs.” V repeated, satisfied. “I saw you first.” 

“You barely even noticed me.” Lace whispered, eyes dropping to stare at the quilt. V tutted and brought her forehead forward to touch her love’s. 

She remembered the first time she saw Scout Harding. She would never forget the casual competence in her swagger, the warm, open smile directed at them, the flush under her freckles. “Lace, I could barely look away from you. Athena actually teased me because I got so blighted tongue-tied around you that first time.” 

Lace raised an unbelieving eyebrow, her hair falling in front of her eyes as she shifted. V smirked and dropped her own voice low to tease. “I actually acted like Krem does every time he sees you come into the tavern. Once, I swear, he actually spilled his drink because you stopped to help Cole search for the kitten that got away. You bent over and he-” 

“V!” Lace chided, blushing, burying her face into the pillow. 

V pulled Lace even closer, kissing the top of her head. “It’s true, swear on my Ancestors and Andraste. He’s so taken with you I keep waiting for him to try and steal you away from me.” 

“Nobody could.” 

The words were muffled by the pillow and quilt, but they brought so much joy to her heart that it nearly burst. _Her_ scout. _Her_ Lace. Nobody could come between them, no monster would ever take her away. She had to believe that. Had to believe in her. 

They’d be together forever. V closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. That was enough to get Lace to pull her face from the pillow and look at her, frowning. “Love?” 

Instead of answering, V pressed her lips to Lace’s to silence the question. She tasted of spring, of sunshine and warmth. The woman in her arms had her whole heart, and would for the rest of V’s life. Her bravery, her selflessness, her _kindness_. All the good things V never thought existed. 

“Let me show you how beautiful you are.” V gently dropped her fingers to the hem of Lace’s shirt, pushing it up over soft, warm skin. “Let me show you how much you mean to me.” 

“Kiss me again first?” Lace asked, smiling shyly.

V grinned and brought her lips to Lace’s. Then lower. Over every inch of freckled skin she could find, the patterns only V knew. She worshiped her love until they were both sated, until the only thing left was to collapse into each other’s arms as the sun dipped below the horizon outside, turning their skin to pearl, their hair to embers. 

“Stay with me.” V asked softly, tracing patterns in the freckles. Lace’s glowing eyes opened lazily and she smiled, making V’s stomach flip. 

“After we win, I’ll never leave you again.” Lace promised, twisting their fingers together. “I swear.” 

V blinked back tears and hid her face in the warm crook of Lace’s neck. 

Her beautiful scout. Her lamb. Her Lace. _Always._

**Author's Note:**

> Are you also obsessed with Varric Tethras's chest hair? Got a thing for dwarf lesbians? Always thinking about dwarves in general? If the answer is yes, come join the Varric Tethras fan club at: [cartadwarfwithaheartofgold.tumblr.com](https://cartadwarfwithaheartofgold.tumblr.com/). I take requests!


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